


Wings

by plaidventurer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angel Wings, Angst, Cas and Dean - Freeform, Cas fanfic, Cas misses flying, Castiel Feels, Castiel lost his wings, Castiel-centric, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Oneshot, POV Castiel, Poor Castiel and his lack of feathers, Sad Castiel, Supernatural - Freeform, castiel - Freeform, supernatural fanfic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidventurer/pseuds/plaidventurer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he holds his breath long enough, it feels like he's flying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to their rightful owners. All I own is the fic itself.

He sat in the back seat with the music blaring into the back of his skull and searched for the sound of his own breathing. Castiel honestly was not sure if there was even a flutter in his chest but there must have been because he knew that humans must keep inhaling and exhaling to stay alive and his candle hadn't flickered out just yet. Human bodies were tiresome to keep up with, he realized early on. Hunger pains and emotions wore him out until he was nothing more than paper thin. 

Maybe the music was just too loud to hear himself breathing, but he felt for something inside himself and realized it wasn't there. Or, perhaps it was there, whatever he was looking for, but his fingers were not graceful enough to catch it. He drew in air deeply, as deeply as he could muster in the onslaught of noise, a few times. Four, or five; he wasn't counting. Then, he stilled.

Castiel had felt it before within his human body. A tension, spitting white noise onto his vision and popping threads in his chest, when he stopped breathing, even for a few seconds. His system knew something was off, and its suspicions grew and grew until lungs burned and his senses snapped back into him. Pain was new, too. Unheard of. The screaming that writhed beneath his ribcage was definitely something he hadn't experienced much of before, despite already knowing that oxygen was key to any being and his efforts were completely foolish. He was intelligent enough to bring others down from the starlit heavens, wings flaming, and so he knew that breaths were essential. Something to be very grateful for. 

This time, there was nothing. In the thundering screeches of guitars and drum sets, he felt whole, and calm, and as if he was floating. Flying, even; flying with wings that he no longer held claim to. There was no need to suck in a breath or blink or do anything, for that matter. His inner chest was relaxed and he felt peaceful. At ease. His wings fanned outward and, suddenly, he was no longer within the restraining walls of the car so highly prized by his friends. Sun-kissed feathers spread as air currents played them in more elegant pitches and tunes than any cassette tape could ever offer. 

"Cas, hey! You alive back there? Stop zoning out on me."

His eyelids popped open. Back straightened, lungs finally waking up from their trance. His feathers crumpled and hissed with amber sparks and it stung him right beneath the ribs. His human ribs, complete with a human heart. He didn't look behind his coat to see the wings; he didn't think he could possibly make his gaze wander if he did. 

"Sorry."


End file.
